Nice For What
by Nautical Paramour
Summary: After seeing her boyfriend flirt with another girl for the hundredth time, Hermione is fed up with being expected to look past his bad behavior. After deciding to put her feelings first, can Fenrir prove to her that he will treat her better than her ex ever did? One-shot! Modern AU. Fenrir x Hermione


In the end, Hermione wasn't sure why she stayed with him for so long. Now that she'd retrieved all of the various articles of clothing and personal effects she'd left scattered all over Rabastan's penthouse, she was scolding herself for not breaking up with him sooner. It seemed deceptively easy to wrench him from her life.

She stared at the spare key she was leaving on his living room table, along with the handwritten note.

Well...she was maybe still too cowardly to break up with him in person, but the last time she'd seen him he was so wrapped up in that pretty redhead, pulling her onto his lap, that she was sure he wouldn't have listened to a word that left her mouth anyway.

...

There were a lot of things about her relationship that Hermione had overlooked, perhaps finding it easier to ignore than to put the work into fixing things. Perhaps there had been a part of her that secretly thought that Rabastan was more than she deserved. Maybe, it was that believing Rabastan's insistent lies had been easier.

She tried to be understanding of Rabastan's lifestyle and work. What did she know about banking, anyway? She was just a biology student, after all. And, she _knew_ how important his job was to Rabastan. Rodolphus, too.

The Lestrange brothers had been raised by a single father after their socialite mother had died from alcohol poisoning. Their father seemed to be determined to squander away their family fortune, until all that was left of a previously lavish lifestyle was a dilapidated country house and no money to take care of it. Rabastan and Rodolphus had to be pulled from their exclusive private school and return to state education.

Seeing the way that being poor had destroyed his young life, Rabastan had grown a hunger, a fire, to never be poor again. He applied himself to his schooling, earning scholarships to go to University after achieving excellent scores. By age 25, he and Rodolphus had developed one of the most sought after investment banking firms in London. He lived in a fancy flat and enjoyed the lifestyle he felt entitled to all along.

He could have anything he wanted.

For some reason, he wanted her. Hermione Granger, just a simple student who had big dreams of becoming a doctor researching vector-borne diseases. He'd laid his light green eyes on her at that stupid club in South Ken, the one she felt lucky to have even gotten into, and he'd made her feel like the most special, most beautiful girl in the whole of England. They'd danced all night, and before she knew it, they were in a committed relationship.

It had gone alright for a while, but quickly, Hermione became fed up with the late night business meetings in swanky restaurants, nightclubs, hotel bars. They'd go out on a date, and he'd end up getting pulled into an impromptu discussions with potential clients by Rodolphus. And these discussions inevitably involved women. Pretty women, meant to tempt his eye.

Rabastan always tried to reassure her, when he held her in bed later in the night, that she was the only person he wanted to be with. He'd promise her a future where she could have anything she wanted, where they'd get married when she was done with school. That he would give up all the money he had just to be with ther. That the women who wrapped themselves around him, giggling, meant nothing to him. They were just tools of the trade — he wouldn't even let them sit at their table if he had his way.

So she'd sucked it up, time and time again.

...

She wasn't sure what it was about tonight that was so different. Maybe this was something that had been boiling up inside her all along. Why should she have to look the other way when he flirted with women? Why did she have to be the perfect girlfriend when Rabastan was perfectly happy with wandering hands?

Because it was clear tonight that all the lies he whispered to her at night were just that: lies.

He'd been so wrapped up in the pretty woman in the tight pink dress, he didn't even notice his own girlfriend, the woman he claimed to love, standing and watching him flirt shamelessly. He couldn't feel the weight of heartbreak in Hermione's eyes when he pulled the giggling girl to rest in his lap, his hand resting high on her waist. He didn't try to hide the way he pulled the woman's hair back over her shoulder, exposing her neck and ear to his mouth so that he could whisper salacious secrets.

In that moment, Hermione knew that she _had_ to leave. If she waited at the penthouse for Rabastan to get home, he'd just talk her into staying once again, and fill her head with pretty lies. But, she was too smart to fall for that again.

So she packed up and walked out of his life, once and for all.

...

Rabastan had not taken the breakup well. The morning after she left the note at his flat, he started calling and texting her mobile non-stop, starting at 4:00 AM. Hermione snorted, knowing that that was probably when he rolled into the flat, fresh from romp with the other girl. She just turned off her phone and went back to sleep.

The calling and apologizing continued for weeks.

Hermione hadn't given in. She'd given up on listening to his groveling messages, knowing that nothing would really change if she were to forgive him and take him back. Of course, he'd be good again for a while, but then he would slip back into complacency.

She hadn't given in, not even with Rodolphus came around to her lab to try and talk her into giving his brother a second chance. Dolph told her that Rabastan had wanted a future with her, that he was serious about their relationship, and that he couldn't possibly think of anyone else that he could spend his life with than her. Hermione had scoffed at that idea. He'd _had_ her already, and he'd showed her exactly how he would treat her. It hadn't been his first warning.

At the same time, the constant begging made her retreat inside her own little flat, only leaving to go to school. She told herself that she was moving on, but she was still so worried about Rabastan's feelings that she found herself little more than a hermit. Ginny and Luna would come over and try to get her to come out for a girls' night, only for her to decline and instead watch a film by herself with nothing more than takeaway for company.

She couldn't go out to the old clubs that she used to love because she might see him, and _he_ might get upset.

Until one night she finally decided enough was enough. She was sick and tired of trying to be nice to Rabastan when he treated her like shite!

br

Hermione took a deep breath looking at herself in the mirror, trying to project the air of the confident woman she wanted to be. She was determined to go out and have _fun_ tonight, and not give a single thought to Rabastan Lestrange. They'd been broken up for too long, and he cared too little about her, for her to still be so hung up on worrying about his feelings. With her little black dress on, she certainly _looked_ sexy and confident.

Walking out of her room, she was greeted by the sight of Ginny and Luna laughing uproariously over their drinks. Ginny stilled at seeing her enter the room. "You look good Granger," she said with a grin, making Hermione feel even more confident. "Are you sure you're ready to do this?" she asked.

The brunette nodded furiously. "Yes, I am done letting Rabastan control my life. His feelings are no longer relevant to me," she explained, though inside she was shaking like a leaf. It was a risk going back to a club that she knew Rabastan frequented, but she liked the music and she liked the drinks. She could go there if she wanted. "Now, let's go before I lose my nerve!"

The three girls left her flat arm in arm, all wearing too tall heels and laughing with one another. They breezed past the line so that Ginny could chat up the bouncer, and miraculously they were let in after only a little eyelash batting.

Once they were inside, with drinks in hand, the trio of girls made their way out onto the dancefloor. The music was booming, and Hermione could feel the bass all the way inside of her, moving her hips in time with the beat. It wasn't long before Gin and Luna were dancing away with partners of their own, but Hermione was left to her own. She didn't mind dancing by herself — she was enjoying the slightly rebellious feeling of looking so good on Rabastan's turf, not caring either way if he saw her.

Just as she was about to get another drink from the bar, hands gripped her waist from behind pulling her back against a firm body. Normally, she would have wriggled herself free, finding it distasteful when a man just pressed his dick against her arse without even asking for a dance, but she recognized those heavily tattooed hands.

Smiling to herself, she continued dancing to the beat before turning around to face the man. "I don't think Rab would like this very much, would he Fenrir?" she asked with a smirk. She had to crane her neck to look up at the man who was holding her tightly against him.

"Don't care what Rabastan would think," he said in her ear, his gravelly voice sending a shiver up her spine.

She always did have a bit of a thing for Rabastan's strong, silent bodyguard. Fenrir Greyback had met the Lestranges at school and had been with them ever since. Initially, Hermione had found him intimidating, with his towering height and muscular stature, but as she got to know him over time, she wasn't frightened of the big bad wolf any more. Instead, she sometimes had imagined what it would be like to be wrapped up in the man's arms. Well, she supposed now she knew.

Their interactions were solely limited to times when Rabastan was also there, though they sometimes shared private smirks with each other when Rabastan did something spoiled. Fenrir had never seemed too interested in her, barely even speaking to her. That was, until now, of course, when one of his hands was dipping from her waist to cop a feel of her arse.

"Is that so?" she questioned, finding it a bit unusual. They were friends after all. "Well, if you're here, then that means that Rabastan is here, too," she said, wrapping her arms around Fenrir's neck, playing with his dark hair, hoping to put on a good show for her ex-boyfriend. He would be watching, even if she couldn't see him.

"He's here and he's fucking furious," Fenrir said with that positively feral grin of his. "But like I said, I don't give a rat's ass." Before she could respond to him, he was kissing her furiously, lips fitting against hers perfectly. Hermione yielded first, opening her mouth up to his, feeling heat zing down to her toes the moment their tongues met. It felt too good to be true.

Breaking away, Hermione tried to catch her breath and her head. "Wow," she complimented, currently unable to think of anything else to say.

"I've been wanting to do that for months, now," he revealed. "I hated seeing the way that Rabastan treated you, how he'd go behind your back. You deserve a man who will treat you right, and if you give me the chance, Hermione, I will _worship_ you," he promised, his voice dropping an octave.

His words were certainly flattering, and Hermione could feel her heartbeat quicken in her chest. "Why didn't you say anything?" she asked, feeling confused. "If you knew about what Rabastan was doing, why didn't you tell me?"

Fenrir shrugged. "You seemed so happy with him, I — it seemed too selfish to take that away from you," he answered honestly. "But now...now I don't care if it's selfish to go after my friend's ex, or if Rabastan will be mad. I want you Hermione, and I am going after what I want."

Hermione was utterly surprised at the sentiment in his words. He obviously cared about her a lot, if he was willing to put his happiness aside for her. Pulling him down, she kissed him again deeply, not caring if anyone was scandalized by her making out with someone on the dancefloor. She wished she could spend the whole night pressed up against him, kissing.

Eventually, though, she had to break apart for air. "Take me out for drinks sometime," she said in his ear. "Then we can talk about _worshipping_ ," she added with a smirk, eager to see where this new flirtation with Fenrir was going to go. But, if she was certain of one thing, it was that life after Rabastan was looking pretty nice.


End file.
